


Besotted

by Juli



Category: A-Team (2010)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-13
Updated: 2011-12-13
Packaged: 2017-10-27 06:46:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/292798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juli/pseuds/Juli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal wasn't chilling out at the beach because the A-Team was vacationing; their time off was necessitated by the serious injury to one of their own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Besotted

John “Hannibal” Smith was not a man who spent a lot of time sitting around. First as a celebrated Army colonel and then as a notorious criminal, most of his time had been spent hip-deep in action or planning even crazier action. It was a rare day that he could spend at the beach, sprawled out under the shade of a large umbrella with nothing to do but read his book and listen to the waves.

Hannibal hated every minute of it.

His dislike wasn’t because of an aversion to relaxing, but because he hated the reason behind it. Hannibal wasn’t chilling out at the beach because the A-Team was vacationing; their time off was necessitated by the serious injury to one of their own. That was never good, but was even more upsetting when the wounded team member was Hannibal’s lover.

Movement at his hip caused Hannibal to look down. Face had his head pillowed on Hannibal’s leg. The younger man had been sleeping soundly, but was stirring, murmuring indistinctly as a frown marred his face.

“Shhhh, kid.” Hannibal put his book aside to run his hand through Face’s hair. It worked like a charm; Face settled back into a deeper sleep.

Hannibal didn’t need to look at the position of the sun to know that it was almost time for Face’s next dose of medication; the patient’s restlessness told him that. He let Face sleep while he could, not going back to his novel in favor of just soaking in the presence of his lover. Face was safe if not entirely sound yet. Hannibal wouldn’t be happy until Face was 100%, but in the meantime he’d take what he could get.

He’d come so close to losing Face this time and the irony was that Hannibal hadn’t even been aware of the danger to his lover until it was almost too late.

They‘d all been soldiering for a long time and each member of the team had experience with knocks to the head. No one had thought much of the hit that Face had taken towards the end of the job, especially since he’d been able to shake it off so quickly… or so they thought. In truth, Face had lost unconsciousness sometime during the ride to the next hidey hole and no one, not even Hannibal, had been able to rouse him.

Face’s condition had been grave enough that the team had taken the ultimate risk of capture and gotten him to a hospital. It’d been three long days until Face had regained consciousness, right about the time when the neurosurgeon had convinced Hannibal that Face needed surgery. Hannibal couldn’t remember when he’d last been so relieved and not because he’d been spared the unending crap Face would have given him had his hair been shaved for surgery. He hadn’t liked seeing Face lying so still and pale on a hospital bed, hadn’t liked it at all.

Unfortunately the team’s status as fugitives meant that Face couldn’t stay in the hospital to recover as long as Hannibal would have liked. Of course, that still meant that he was in a couple of days longer than Face had wanted; the conman had never been keen hospitals. Despite Face’s lingering dizziness and headaches, it hadn’t been safe to take him to the nearest bolt hole; they’d been in one place for too long. Pain meds had kept Face out of it for most of the drive to the next safe hideout, a beach house several hours away. Hannibal had scammed it himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Murdock or BA to do it; he just needed to feel directly responsible for his lover’s safety.

They’d been at the new place for a couple of days and Face had spent most of that time sleeping. Hannibal had occupied himself with hovering, something he wasn‘t able to indulge in too often, thanks to Face‘s independent streak. After two days, though, Hannibal hadn’t been able to keep Face in bed any longer, not with sex being on the prohibited activity list. Just the walk out to the beach had worn Face out, necessitating the nap.

Movement caught Hannibal’s eye. Murdock was coming out of the house and was making a beeline for where Hannibal lay with Face. As he got closer, Hannibal could tell that something was off with Murdock’s attire. The pilot had a dark suit coat thrown over his Hawaiian shirt. A bowtie was around his neck and rounding out the odd ensemble was Murdock’s usual khakis, red baseball cap and flip flops. Hannibal reminded himself to leave some cash for the homeowner to pay for dry cleaning.

More important than Murdock’s clothes was what he was carrying. Murdock held a silver tray that had a tall glass and a plate on it. Hannibal had been right about it nearing pill time. Murdock, for all of his crazy-seeming antics, was meticulous when it came to Face’s medication, just as BA was careful monitoring how much sleep Face got. Hannibal wasn’t the only member of the team that was hovering.

“Face?” Hannibal dropped his hand to caress Face’s shoulder. “I need you to wake up for a minute.”

“Mmmmm. . . .” Face murmured and tried to bury his head even deeper into Hannibal’s thigh.

Hannibal chuckled. “Come on, kid. It’s for your own good.”

One blue eye opened, but then just as quickly closed. “Don’t wanna.”

“Didn’t say you had a choice.” Hannibal was gentle but firm. “Time to take your meds, Lieutenant, and that’s an order.”

Face groaned softly and stretched, obeying but taking his time about it. Hannibal put an arm under Face’s and helped the younger man to slowly sit up.

“Is the light bothering you?” Hannibal was hoping the answer would be no. The only reason he’d agreed to the beach excursion in the first place was because it was cloudy. Strong light tended to trigger one of the migraines that had plagued Face since the head injury.

“No, it’s good.” Face shrugged. He sighed as he sagged against Hannibal. “How can I be so tired when I’ve done nothing but sleep for almost a week?”

Hannibal settled Face against his side and wrapped his arm around him. “It was a bad concussion, Face. You’re not going to heal in just a few days.”

“I have before.” Face muttered. He looked offended, as though he was taking his body’s injury personally.

“You never had a concussion that bad before, we almost lost you.” Hannibal tightened his grip. “I almost lost you.”

Face looked up at him, unusually contrite. “Sorry, Boss.”

Hannibal kissed the top of his head. “Don’t be sorry, kid. Just don’t do it again.”

Murdock reached them before the moment could get any more emotional. “Monsieur, it is time for your afternoon repast.”

The pilot had adopted an English accent that was as bad as it was snooty. In other words, it was actually relatively tame, for Murdock.

“Well, don’t just stand there my good man. What’s the vintage today?”

Hannibal startled to hear Face reply in an accent almost as bad, but covered his surprise with a happy grin. It was the first time Face had felt up to playing along with Murdock since the concussion.

A smile flashed across Murdock‘s face before he dropped into character again. “We have a lovely jus de la vache for you today, featuring a rich melody of chocolat with just the slightest undertones of fraise.”

Hannibal knew enough French to be alarmed. He looked at the glass more closely and saw that the liquid it contained was colored a little differently than normal. “Murdock, did you mix chocolate and strawberry syrup into the milk?”

Some of Face’s medications needed to be taken with milk and the only way that Face would drink the stuff was if chocolate mixed in. Hannibal was grateful that it had taken something so little to keep his lover from fussing, but the idea of milk flavored with both chocolate and strawberry made his stomach churn.

“S’okay, Hannibal.” Face reached for the glass and, once in his hand, displayed the beads of moisture running down its side. “As long as it’s good and cold.”

With trepidation, Hannibal watched as Face took a sip. The younger man rolled the liquid around in his mouth before smacking his lips speculatively. Murdock practically hummed with tension, but Face didn’t make him wait long for a verdict.

“Délicieux,” Face declared. “My compliments to the sommelier.”

Murdock grinned and held the plate out. “And with your beverage, Sir, may I recommend these.”

Face looked at the pills with less enthusiasm than he had the milk, but didn’t protest. With a resigned sigh, he took the medication off the plate and popped it into his mouth, washing it down with the milk. In fact, Face finished the glass in one long gulp, Adam’s apple bobbing gently as he swallowed. Hannibal swallowed too and looked away. He’d spent almost every minute in Face’s presence during the last week, but most of that time had been steeped in worry. Now that his lover was on the mend, Hannibal was feeling the effects of the lack of intimacy.

“Very good, sir.” Murdock gave a little bow as he took the glass back from Face. “It will be my pleasure to serve you again in precisely four hours.”

Murdock saluted them and then pivoted as sharply as the sand would allow. Hannibal watched him fondly as he headed back towards the house. After a few moments, Face sighed softly and put his head on Hannibal’s shoulder.

“You look like you might have had enough fresh air for one day,” Hannibal commented. “Ready to go in?”

“Yeah,” Face admitted. He smiled, but it didn’t reach all the way to his eyes. “I guess I’ll nap in the house instead of napping out here.”

“You know what they say,” Hannibal teased. “Variety is the spice of life.”

Hannibal got to his feet and offered an arm to his lover. Face took it and Hannibal helped him to stand. Face wasn’t at all sure on his feet and Hannibal quickly moved to steady him. “Dizzy?”

Face had his eyes squeezed shut. “Not until I was vertical.”

“Well, we’ll have your horizontal again before you know it,” Hannibal vowed.

The younger man snorted. “That’s the worst pick up line you’ve ever used.”

Hannibal ignored the quip, instead wrapping an arm around Face’s waist and starting out for the house. Face kept his eyes closed, trusting in Hannibal to lead him. It didn’t take long to make it to the house, even with a few small detours around driftwood.

“That crazy fool give Faceman a headache?” BA demanded, glaring as though anticipating the answer.

BA was at the sink doing dishes. Hannibal wasn’t brave enough to comment on the floral apron he was wearing and hoped that Face kept his eyes closed. If Face saw it, he was sure to comment and, concussion or no concussion, BA’s reaction to being teased was not likely to be good.

“Nah,” Face answered before Hannibal could. “I don’t need Murdock for one of those. It’s just one of my dizzy spells.”

BA’s face fell, although he didn’t say anything. As it turned out, he didn’t need to utter a word. As Hannibal walked him by, Face reached out and patted BA’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, big guy, I know you’d fix it if you could. Hell, if my head was a motor, you’d have it purring by now.”

“Damn straight,” BA muttered. “At least your brain didn’t get scrambled like Murdock’s. You’re hurtin’ and that’s wrong, but you’re sane.” Face snorted and BA grinned. “Most of the time, that is.”

“Thanks, BA.” Face’s eyes were still closed, but his smile looked genuine. Before they left the kitchen, however, Face put a hand on the doorframe to keep Hannibal from guiding him out of the room. “Love the apron, BA. Pink’s your color.”

Damn kid. Hannibal would have sworn that Face had his eyes closed the whole time, but obviously he’d managed to peek. Just as obviously, Face had a death wish too. Hannibal braced himself to keep BA from Face, but the sergeant surprised him. BA grinned broadly.

“You think so?” BA smoothed the front of the apron, his hand leaving a wet streak in its wake. “I thought maybe lilac would be better.”

Face cracked one eye open and looked at him, a dubious expression on his face. When he saw the wide grin BA was sporting, he closed it again, but wagged a finger in BA’s general direction.

“And you say that Murdock’s the crazy one,” Face admonished.

“Ain’t just me,” BA countered. “Everybody who’s met him knows he’s a crazy fool.”

“Bed. Now.” Hannibal took Face more firmly by the arm and guided him out of the kitchen. The last thing he needed was Face and BA getting into another one of their discussions about Murdock’s relative insanity.

“Aw, Hannibal, you say the sweetest things.”

There was no further interruptions, although Murdock could be heard singing somewhere in a distant part of the house. It appeared to be the Muppet theme song, although Hannibal would deny recognizing it to his dying day. It didn’t take long to get Face into their shared room. Once there, Hannibal waited until the younger man toed off his sandals and then helped him into bed. Since Face was wearing loose, cotton pants and a tank top, there was no reason for him to change clothes.

“Join me?” Face’s voice was plaintive as he reached out to Hannibal.

Hannibal knew his lover too well to immediately jump in. Cuddling together outside in a relatively public area like the beach was one thing; Face wasn’t enough of an exhibitionist to try anything. In their bedroom, however, it was a whole different game. “The idea is for you to rest, Face.”

“I’ll rest.” Face was quick to make a promise. “But when I’m dizzy, I need an anchor and you’re the best anchor there is, John.”

It was rare for Face to admit needing anything; rarer yet for him to use Hannibal’s first name. Sighing in surrender, Hannibal slipped of his own shoes and joined Face on the bed. Face sighed happily and pressed close.

“Sleep, Tem. You’ll feel better when you wake up.” Hannibal hoped he wasn’t lying to his lover.

“Mmmm. . . . feel better already.”

Face snuggled his face into Hannibal’s neck, his warm breath tickling Hannibal’s skin every time he exhaled. The sensation made the older man squirm. He hadn’t been injured; there was nothing wrong with his body or how it reacted to Face’s closeness. Damn it.

“Something the matter, Hannibal?”

Face’s eyes were open and, although he had that unfocused look in them that indicated he was still experiencing dizziness, there was also a hint of mischief in their blue depths. Hannibal was glad to see it, even if it meant he’d been played.

“You know damn well what’s the matter.” Hannibal growled. He wrapped his hands around Face’s ass and squeezed. “Insufferable flirt.”

Having gotten the reaction he’d been after, Face smiled and rubbed his cheek against the bare skin at Hannibal’s neck. “That’s the way you like it.”

“Not when you’re hurt,” Hannibal disagreed, even as he mentally told his body to behave. “The doctor said no strenuous activity.”

“C’mon, boss, I’m going crazy here,” Face whined. He undulated slightly against Hannibal. “If I’m gonna be dizzy, I’d rather there be a good reason for it, you know?”

The tone of Face’s voice bothered Hannibal. There was more than a whine to it, Face actually sounded desperate. That concerned Hannibal because Face was a man who thrived on physical contact. There’d been lots of nonsexual touching since Face’d been hurt, but nothing more intimate. The doctors had stressed no strenuous activity until Face’s headaches and dizziness improved, but as far as Hannibal was concerned, the no sex edict seemed to be doing more harm than good.

“Okay.” Hannibal kissed Face, allowing more heat into it than he had since Face had been injured. “But we stick to the plan.”

Face’s eyes widened and his grin was full of delight. “Oh, man, you really do have a plan for everything.”

“Better believe it, kid.” Hannibal knew he’d been right, given Face’s reaction. “I need your word, though, that you’ll stick to the plan.”

“That depends.” Face’s eyes narrowed. “What’s the plan?”

Hannibal kissed him again. “Just that you let me do all the work.”

Face smiled and lay back against the pillow, one hand behind his head. “Oh, I think I can handle that. All right, I promise.”

“Good.” Hannibal bent down and kissed him. Face surged up and tried to deepen it, but Hannibal put a hand on his chest and pressed him back into the mattress. Face resisted at first, but eventually settled down and let Hannibal set the pace.

It’d been years, decades even, since Hannibal Smith had spent an afternoon making out like a teenager. That’s just what they did, though, for what felt like hours. Once he’d submitted to Hannibal’s tempo, Face relaxed into it wholeheartedly. Hannibal explored Face’s mouth slowly and with great relish. As they continued to kiss, one of his hands snuck under Face’s shirt and caressed the skin of the other man’s belly and chest. Every time Face tried to reciprocate, Hannibal gently disengaged his hands. He’d been very serious about Face not doing any of the work. Eventually Face’s hands came to rest on Hannibal’s hips and he let the older man do whatever he wanted.

The sounds Face was making eventually changed from contented sighs to near-whimpers of need. As enjoyable as the session had been, Hannibal decided it was time to bring it to a close. He dipped his hand beneath the waistband of Face’s loose cotton pants. As close as they were pressed, he’d known for some time that Face was hard. Hannibal’s hand went unerring to Face’s erection and gently grasped it.

“Hannibal.” Face’s voice was a sigh.

“Gonna be good, kid,” Hannibal reassured him. He started a slow stroke, loving the response from his lover. Face’s flush deepened and he bit his lip, but he did nothing else to hasten Hannibal’s action.

Hannibal kissed him again. “Good boy.”

It’d been a dry spell for both of them. Hannibal had found the make-out session as arousing as Face did, but found he didn’t need any additional stimulation. Just watching Face’s expression as he was slowly jacked off was totally satisfying.

When Face’s orgasm hit, it was the quietest climax that Hannibal had ever witnessed. Face’s blue eyes popped open and he smiled at Hannibal, barely breathing hard as his pleasure reached its peak. Hannibal felt the cock in his hand twitch and then warmth was covering his fingers.

He held Face until the orgasm finished and then withdrew his hand. They exchanged a few lazy kisses before Face pulled back.

“Thanks, Hannibal.” Face nuzzled the older man’s chest. “But that couldn’t have been much fun for you.”

“You kidding, kid?” Hannibal took Face’s hand and brought it to his own groin. “I had plenty of fun.”

Face’s eyes widened as he realized that Hannibal’s pants were wet from release too – without the older man even being touched. “Wow.”

Hannibal chuckled low and dirty, loving how the sound made Face shiver. “Wow is right. The things you do to me, kid.”

“I am pretty amazing.” Face grinned, but Hannibal chose to take the comment seriously.

“Yes, you certainly are.” He bent and kissed Face’s nose. “Hold that thought, I’ll be right back.”

Hannibal got up from the bed, but reluctantly. He knew that they’d both be more comfortable if he cleaned them up a little, but hated to leave their warm little cocoon even for a short amount of time. It had to be done, though, so he quickly shucked his clothes and went into the attached bath to wet a cloth with warm water. He cleaned himself before heading back to the other room. Hannibal halfway expected for Face to be asleep when he got back to the bed, but his lover’s eyes were open, if barely.

Face had also slipped out of his clothes and watched with a half-lidded gaze as Hannibal walked back towards him. He stayed silent as Hannibal wiped him off with an almost reverent touch. After Hannibal had discarded the washcloth and climbed back into bed, Face wiggled until he was again in Hannibal’s arms.

“How’s the dizziness?” Hannibal carded his hand fingers through Face’s hair.

“Mmmm. . . .” Face was already more than half asleep. “Who cares?”

Hannibal squeezed tight in warning. “Face. . . .”

Face sighed and opened his eyes in order that he could take a test look around the room. “Huh. Dizziness is gone. Guess you kissed it right out of me.”

“Good.” Hannibal wasn’t sure he believed his lover, but decided not to press the issue. “Get some sleep.”

“Not like I have much of a choice,” Face complained – after he yawned. “At least this time I have reason for being tired. Thanks, babe.”

“My pleasure, believe me.”

Face smiled again, but didn’t say anything more and was sleep within moments. Hannibal savored the sensation of holding his lover, warm and alive in his arms, while a post-coital glow still tingled sensually along his nerves. It was a bit daunting, at his age, to realize that so much of his own satisfaction in life had to do with the wellbeing of the man in his arms.

“He has you wrapped around his little finger, John.” Hannibal whispered to himself.

Hannibal smiled as he realized that he’d just spoken the utter truth – and that he wouldn’t have it any other way. Content that his lover was on the mend and knowing he’d do whatever it took to help him along the way, Hannibal drifted into sleep too.

~ the end~


End file.
